


full of surprises

by Dresupi



Series: Full of Surprises [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brock Rumlow is so whipped, Clothing Kink, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fetish, First Dates, Frottage, Lingerie, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Somewhat Reformed Brock Rumlow, Stockings, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 00:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12759690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Brock Rumlow is so whipped.  And no one, not even Darcy knows how that happened.Could have something to do with the amazing sex, though.Possibly.





	full of surprises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zephrbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephrbabe/gifts).



> For the lovely zephrbabe, who prompted "More whipped!Rumlow, please!" I hope you like this! :D
> 
> Unbeta'd, I own my mistakes. :P

“You got plans?”  Brock asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as was humanly possible.  He was actually kind of surprised at the unchill tone in his voice.  Not many things surprised him anymore, but apparently  _ that _ didn’t matter if he had the ability to pull one over on himself. 

Maybe if this wasn’t his fifth or sixth attempt to ask Darcy Lewis out on a date, he’d be a little more calm.  He usually didn’t strike out this many times.  

Well, it wasn’t really striking out if he never made it to actually asking her, was it?   

“Sure, I got plans…”  Darcy said, slamming the stack of books down on the counter in front of her.  “I got  _ lots _ of plans.  I have plans to have a social life.  I have  _ plans _ to do something other than watch netflix alone in my apartment, I have plans to maybe  _ travel  _ before I’m old and decrepit... but first, I have  _ plans _ to pay off my student loans. Which, I dunno if I’ve mentioned… are a bitch and a half, so like… I’m sorry, what was your question?  Do I have plans?”  

“Tonight?” he continued, biting his bottom lip to keep from saying anything else. Short and sweet.  That was his zone. That’s what worked for him.  “You got plans  _ tonight _ ?”  

“I dunno, Stallone.  Do I?”  She smirked in a way that meant she was  _ probably _ teasing him, but after that last outburst, he didn’t wanna make any assumptions.  

“If you want?” he replied, trying again to feign nonchalance, even though it felt like he was bombing harder than S.H.I.E.L.D at a Hydra base.  

She reached for his hand, pulling out her pen and scribbling a number onto his palm.  “Text me if you think my plans are likely to change… Don’t call, I don’t answer phone calls.”

So maybe not bombing after all.  

“What, are ya screening ‘em?” he asked, smiling in a way that usually made the panties drop to the floor.  

“Nah. I just hate talking on the phone. So don’t ever call me unless it’s an emergency or your hands are incapacitated or something.”  Darcy’s panties gave no indication of dropping any time soon.  

Which was fine.  He liked a challenge.  

“Noted…”  Brock glanced down at the number on his hand.  She’d written it in blue Bic ink, which meant he had approximately ten minutes before the numbers started to fade.     

She winked and pushed back from the counter. “I have to go do work-things now. Not all of us have cushy jobs as agents of S.H.I.E.L.D or whatever…”  She winked  _ again _ , which meant that yeah, she was definitely teasing him.  In a good way.  “Talk to ya later, Brock.”

“Later,” he replied, debating on the best way to leave and not smudge the ink on his hand. His best bet  would probably be to go ahead and save her number in his phone. She wasn’t looking at him, he could definitely pull it off.  Darcy didn’t give him so much as a second glance as he left the lab, but like hell he was going to pull out his phone before he even left her immediate area.

Anywhere outside of the lab was fair game, though. 

He got as far as the elevator before he texted her.  Sure, he  _ usually _ waited for the woman to contact him, but Darcy had  _ his _ number.  She’d had it for a while.  And she hadn’t ever attempted to contact him.  He’d been trying to get hers for a while now…   

She knew what he was after.  This wasn’t desperate.  It was simply… hammering down plans.  His plans to get in her pants.   

_ “Dinner?”  _ he texted.  One word.  Very chill.  Regardless of how soon he was texting her.

_ “Yeah, I eat it,”   _ was her snarky reply. He was gonna have to be blunt with her.  At least that was something he  _ was _ good at. If his flirting failed, his blunt sincerity would pull him through.

_ “With me? At that diner you always buy Banner’s food from? Around seven tonight?”   _ He figured he'd cover all his bases since she was hell bent on busting his balls. 

_ “Lol, sure.  So long as you're paying, Cowboy.” _

He snorted aloud, stepping into the elevator, chuckling as he texted back.  _ “Sure thing, sweetheart. Order whatever you want.” _

If she wanted a cowboy, he’d give her a cowboy.  

_ “Famous last words,” _ was her final response.

“You said it,” he muttered to himself.  

* * *

 

‘Whatever she wanted’ turned out to be a cheeseburger and fries.   _ And _ a shared banana fudge milkshake after he insisted it was fine if she wanted one. It was shared in name only, though.  Because he got like two or three sips of the thing before it was gone.  

She drowned her fries in so much ketchup and malt vinegar, it made him wonder if she actually liked the taste of potatoes or if it was just an elaborate ruse so she could eat ketchup and malt vinegar with something other than a spoon.  

He must have been wearing his confusion on his face, because she laughed.  “I like few fries with my ketchup and vinegar…”  Shrugging, she popped one in her mouth.  “Learned it in London.  My ex totally loved fish and chips, dude.  And you know, I don’t really remember much of our relationship, except for the fish and chips, so like…I dunno.”   She offered one to Brock, raising her eyebrows.  “You wanna try one?  It’s good, I promise.  I’m like… the pickiest eater in the world.”  

He’d had fries with vinegar before.  But he’d never eaten one out of Darcy’s hand, so he ducked his head and ate it.  His teeth grazed her fingertip and she giggled, yanking her hand back.  “Teeth!” she chastised, her lips quirking up on the ends.  

“Promise I’ve had all my shots,”  Brock teased.  “I  _ do _ bite, though.”  

“Kinda figured.  You got that look to ya…” she said softly, her eyes raking up over his chest and shoulders, resting on his mouth.  “You look like you’d leave marks.”  

“Only if you want ‘em…”  

One side of her mouth twitched upward in a smile and she reached for the milkshake they were ‘sharing’.  “I gotta think about that one.”  She took a sip, slurping at the remains of the shake.   

“I got all the time in the world…”  he said, lounging back in the seat to illustrate his breeziness.

She crossed her legs, bouncing her foot and brushing against his calf every so often.  He wasn’t so much of a jerk that he thought she was trying to play footsie, but it still sent a jolt straight to his crotch every time she touched him.  

The server came by with the check and he tipped.  Apparently not generously enough, because Darcy also dropped a fiver on the table when they left.  

They walked down the sidewalk towards the Tower.  She lived there.  Upstairs with the rest of the super dorks.  He didn’t.  He had an apartment of his own.  Out of Stark’s grasp.  

“Listen, I can take it from here,” she said at the door to the lobby.  His heart sank a little.  She wasn’t asking him up. Not a big deal, he’d had to play this game before. “You should totally call me when you get home, though,” she added, throwing him for a loop.  

His eyebrows went up. Never played  _ this _ game before.  “Thought you said not to call you unless it was an emergency?”  

“ _ Or _ if your hands are incapacitated.  And… I have a feeling your hands are going to be very busy and unable to text me.  So like… yeah… Call me,”  she said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his parted lips.  

It was brief.  Too brief if you asked him.  All it did was stoke at the fire already burning deep in his gut and make him want to grab her and kiss the sass right out of her.  

But he was so stunned he didn’t.  He watched her leave and enter the building, a smile playing on his lips as he realized exactly what she was propositioning.  

He hadn’t had phone sex in a  _ long time _ .  

Sexting, he’d done.  

Skype sex, he’d totally done that too.  

Phone sex, though.  He’d have to listen to her sounds and she’d listen to his… and he couldn’t see her or…

Okay yeah.  It was hot.  

He was in.  Totally in.  

* * *

 

He called her the second he got home.  

Well, not  _ the _ second, he went through his night routine first.  Took a piss, washed his hands, brushed his teeth.  Took off his clothes.  Tossed them in the hamper.  All pretty mundane stuff that seemingly took forever because he was half-hard the entire time.  Thinking about what Darcy was going to do and  _ say _ on that phone.

The fact that she had a sexy voice hadn’t really crossed his mind until that point.  But she did.  She did that little smirky thing with her mouth when she sassed him.  It tickled his ear when she lowered it to whisper in his ear.  

He  _ had _ wondered what she sounded like when she came, however.  _ That _ thought had doen a little more than cross his mind.  Looked like he was going to find out.  

He called her as he was laying back on this bed.  

“Took you long enough,” she said upon answering the call.  Snarky little thing.  He could just imagine what her lips were doing.  What he’d like them to be doing…   

“I hope I didn’t keep you waitin’...” he teased.  “You didn’t start without me, did you?”  

“Nah.  I’ve got too much satisfaction riding on this,” she replied, teasing in her own way.  

“I woulda come up to your place…” he said.  

“I know you would have.  And I wanted to ask you.”  

“But you didn’t.”  

“Nah.  I… uh…”  she trailed off a little.  “Didn’t want to get too attached.”  

By all accounts, that should have made him feel a little relieved.  She didn’t want to get attached.  This wasn’t a long term thing.  This was a fuck and leave kind of thing.  She knew it.  He knew it.  

But it  _ didn’t _ make him feel relieved.  It made him feel panicked.  Because maybe he wanted her to get a little attached to him.  Maybe he wanted to come back more than once.  

Maybe he didn’t want to fuck and leave.  

But she apparently had him all figured out.  And she was extending this in the only way she knew how.  

“Fair enough,” he croaked, realizing he hadn’t said a word and she was waiting for some kind of response.  

“Yeah…” she said, trailing off before changing the subject.  A complete one-eighty, if he was being honest. “You a self starter or do you need me to work you up?”  

That feeling he didn’t want to name resided back into the dark recesses of his heart where it belonged and he grinned, his hand sliding down to palm at himself in his boxers.  “Work me up,” he said.  A statement, not a request.   He could hear her smiling, hear the little puffs of air as they hit the microphone.  “You got it, Brock.”   

The words somehow went straight to his cock.  He bit his lip and laid back on the pillows, closing his eyes and giving himself over to her voice.  

“I bet you’re getting hard from just that, aren’t you?”  

He hummed, squeezing his rapidly stiffening dick.  “Getting me so hard, babe.”  

“Okay, so.  I’m gonna tell you what to do, and you’re gonna be a good boy and do it for me, kay?”  

Kinky as fuck.  He didn’t usually go for this role, but something about her voice made him want to.  

“Okay.”  

“Do you have your boxers on?” she asked.  

“Boxer briefs,” he corrected her, sliding his palm over the bulge.  

“Take ‘em off,”  she instructed.  

He did, kicking them off the bed and waiting for her next command.  

“Wrap your hand around the base and stroke up slowly.  Tell me what it feels like.”  

He moaned softly, “Feels good… teasing…”  

“I want you to keep stroking at that speed.  Be a good boy and don’t speed up.  I want you to cum from this.”  

He chuckled.  It felt good, but there was no way he was going to cum like this.  There wasn’t enough stimulation.  But in the spirit of obeying Darcy, he agreed.  

“Tell me how hard your cock is… describe it to me…”  

“So fucking hard… “ he grunted as he ran his thumb up over the head, spreading the slickness he found there.  “Slick… dripping everywhere…”  

She hummed and the sound made him gasp a little  “Keep up the slow pace, Brock,” she murmured. “Don’t cum until you can cum like this.”  

That was becoming more of a reality the longer he kept it up.  

The tip of his cock was oozing and the sound of her voice made it twitch in his hand.  Veins stood out along the entirety of his length.  He could trace one particularly prominent vein up and down the shaft.  

His hips began to buck up with his hand, the foreskin moving up and down, over the head and back again.  

“Speed up just a little bit. I want to hear the sounds…” Darcy whispered.  A strangled moan gurgled up and out of his mouth as he sped up, the slight slapping sound of flesh on flesh traveled through the phone and she sighed.  “Feel good?”  

“So good…” he rasped.  

“Bet you wish that was me instead of your hand…” she murmured.  “My mouth? My lips wrapped around your cock.  Fucking my mouth?”   

“Guhhhhh…” he murmured.  

“Or pushing up and fucking my wet pussy?”  

“Darcy…”   

“You want me to keep talking about you, or talk about me?” she asked, her voice hitching a little as he realized that he might not the the only person this was doing it for.

“You,” he murmured.  “Tell me about you…”  

“I’m so wet for you…” she murmured.  “So slick and wet… “  

“I’ll bet you’re dripping with it…” he whispered.  “Fuck, I want you, Darce.  I woulda fucked you so nice… anywhere you wanted…”  

“Is that location of our bodies or your dick?” she teased.  

“Whichever,” he replied.  

She hummed softly.  “Up against the wall?  It’d be hot if we couldn’t make it back to my bedroom…”  

“I wouldn’t…” he whispered, playing along for her benefit.  “I want you so bad, Darce.  I’d take you up against the front door… fuck you so good, my dick sliding in and out…”  His hand trembled and his dick spasmed.  “Oh fuck… I’m close…”  

She hummed once more.  “Cum, baby…”  

He did.  He came hard.  Shots of spunk hit his chest and stomach, cooling on impact.  

“Holy shit… Darce… that was… fuck.  What do you need?”  

She exhaled softly.  “That’s all I need, babe.  I can handle the rest…”  

“Wait…” he said.  “Wait, I can…”  

“Have a good night, Brock.  Make sure you clean yourself up…”  

“Darcy, I can…”  

_ *Click* _

He exhaled loudly, looking down at the mess he’d made on his chest.  

“Fuuuuuccckkkk…” he mumbled, reaching for his t-shirt.  

* * *

 

He texted her the next morning, figuring she’d be off work on a Saturday.  

She was.  

“You wanna come over?” he asked.  

“Little sudden, considering we  _ just _ went out last night…” she teased.  

“Yeah, well… do ya wanna?”

She hesitated in replying.  He felt like he was staring at the screen for hours, but his clock informed it was only three minutes.  He was about to text her, to rescind his invitation in some kind of awkward way, but then those three little dots showed up on the screen and he had a whole new reason to panic.  

“Sure,” she texted back simply.  “I’ll come by after lunch?”  

He wrote twenty different replies in his head, each one more embarrassing than the last.  He finally settled on four words.  “Cool.  I’ll be here.”

* * *

 

Darcy chewed her sandwich slowly, thinking about her post lunch plans. 

She wasn’t sure why she’d said yes.  It went against every single one of the rules she’d laid down for herself when she’d given Brock her number.  

She could give him her number, let him call her for dates.  But she absolutely wasn’t going to see him two days in a row. And that cock wasn’t going in her until she’d gotten three dates out of the dude.  And she absolutely was not allowed to fall for him.  Under no circumstances was that allowed. 

But he was trouble.  Capital ‘T’ Trouble.  

He had one of those smiles. A smile that was simultaneously sweet and hot.  And those  _ eyes _ .  Eyes that undressed her.  That liked what they saw when they did.  

Darcy did not want to fall for Brock Rumlow.  No sir. 

But she absolutely wanted to  _ fuck _ Brock Rumlow.  

So she was at an impasse.  

The phone sex the night before had been ingenious.  Something she’d been planning since she’d given him her number.  

But she wasn’t expecting him to call her the very next day.  To ask her to come over.  What kind of game was this that he was playing?  What kind of crazy S.H.I.E.L.D agent mind games?  

She’d listened to  _ him _ last night.  Heard his chest rumble as he came.  Came hard, if the way his breathing had stuttered was any indicator at all.  What the hell else did he want from her?  

She could feel herself growing wetter just  _ thinking _ about what else he could want.  

He probably wanted to fuck her against his front door.  Like he’d been talking about the night before.  Wanted to bend her over his sofa and push into her.  

Geez, why was  _ that _ turning her on?  She didn’t like being manhandled, but the thought of Brock’s calloused fingers coaxing her into various positions was  _ doing _ it for her.  

_ Brock _ did it for her.  

Honest to Thor, she only found dudes who were unattainable, physically or otherwise, attractive.

And Brock was unattainable squared.  Dude was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, so he was never around.  AND he was a player and a half.  So emotionally  _ and _ physically unattainable too.  

Finishing the last bite of her sandwich, she took her plate out to the sink.  She headed to the bathroom to check herself in the mirror before she left.  Because hell yes she was still going. She might be an idiot, but she was about to get middle-of-the-day-laid, so she couldn't be that bad off, right? 

Stereotype or no, she was getting her kicks.  And as long as she wasn’t lying to herself, what was the harm with getting them with Brock Rumlow?  Dude looked like he was up for hella kicks.  

And dammit, Darcy deserved hella kicks, okay? 

* * *

 

 

She rang the doorbell and he answered it seconds later.  Which would have totally looked desperate, except it was Brock and she was pretty sure he wasn’t ever desperate for anything.  

He grinned.  That panty-melting, no -- scratch that -- panty-ruining grin that almost had her falling to her knees in front of him. 

From the second she set foot in Brock’s apartment, she felt the pull.  The pull of her business and his business, wanting to mash.  It was crazy town in the vagimjam department.    

“Heya, Darce.  You look amazing…”  

She did, he was right about that.  She’d meticulously chosen one of her cutest little dress/thigh high socks combos to wear over here.  She was side-eying herself for being so very thirsty the entire time she’d been rolling the charcoal gray socks up her legs.  The cream colored lace at the top was a nice touch. She hoped Brock’s touch was just as nice. 

“I know, but thanks all the same,” she said, using more bravado than someone in her state of arousal should be allowed.  

He moved aside, let her come in.  She glanced around his place.  Just about what she’d expected.  Brown suede furniture.  Matching coffee table and end tables.  Hotel art on the walls.  He probably got this apartment already furnished.  The only thing that could have possibly been his was a ratty old afghan draped over the back of the sofa.  One his mom or grandma probably made him.  

It was endearing, seeing something so old and obviously handmade in Brock Rumlow’s apartment.  It humanized him a little.  

At least as much as hearing him pant in her ear the night before had.  

“You look…” she paused, pretending to search for the right words even though she already had them.  This was such a difficult dance she was attempting.  “Well rested,” she finished, arching an eyebrow and sliding her purse off her arm.  

He took it, hanging it on a hook beside the door as he chuckled.  “Well, I usually am after I jack off…”  His smirk was deadly.  

He leaned forward, his hand trailing up her arm.  “I really wanna kiss you right now, Darce, but I won’t if you don’t want me to…” 

She should have said no.  Made him wait for it.  But holy hell, she was sick of waiting.  

“Kiss me,” she murmured, and he did.  Dude wasted no time at all.  His lips parted, moving roughly over hers as his stubble raked against her skin.  His tongue was soft and wet as it teased around her lips.  His arms slid around her waist, pulling her to the front of him with such ferocity that she squeaked.  

The kiss stopped, but he didn’t step back from her.  His dark eyes searched hers.  “You okay?”  

“Totally, you just… surprised me is all.”  

He laughed.  “A good surprise, I hope?”  

She nodded once more.  “Yeah.  A great surprise.” 

“You surprised  _ me _ … last night… yesterday… fuck, Darcy, you  _ always _ surprise me…”  The admission was raw, and his voice broke a little at the end.  “I wanted you to finish, did you? Did you cum after you ended the call?”  

She chuckled a little.  “Yeah I did.”  

“Was it good?”  

“It was really good,” she assured him.  

“I can be really good too,” he said, eyes still holding her gaze, locking her in.  “If you’d let me.”  

_ If _ she’d let him. She had to bite back the nervous laughter.  She’d let him do whatever he wanted to her, didn’t he know that?  Evidently not, because his gaze had changed from predatory to imploring.  

Her head moved.  Up and down, almost imperceptible, but he still saw it.  “Yeah?” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her.  “Say it.  Lemme hear you say it, Darce…”  

“Yes, I’ll let you…” she said, her voice sounding low and gravelly, almost foreign to her own ears. 

And then he was kissing her, hoisting her up on his front and across the floor.  His fingers grazed the scant few inches of skin that were exposed between her thigh high socks and her panties and his breath hitched as he carried her.  

She thought that she was going to end up being pounded against the wall, like he’d talked about the night before, but instead, she was gently deposited on the sofa, her thighs spread as he knelt between them.  

“I was gonna talk about this last night,” he rasped. “I was gonna talk about burying my head between your thighs and sucking your clit until you couldn’t move, but you ended the call and now I figure that showing you in person is better… that okay with you?”  

Fuck yes, it was okay with her.  Those lips were criminal.  She wanted them on her.  

But all she could muster was a tiny ‘yes’.  

He flipped up her skirt, groaning when he saw the tops of the thigh highs.  “Fuck, Darcy…”  His fingers toyed with the lace.  “Do you wear these to work too?”  

“Sometimes,” she said, spreading her thighs a little further apart.  

He reached for her panties, his fingers sliding over the damp fabric as another one of those grins hitched across his face.  “You ever get this wet at work?”  

She shook her head.  “Not usually.  Tony’s ego is a libido killer.”  

“Don’t talk about him then…” he countered.  “I want you wet.”  Her eyes fluttered closed as his thumb pressed against her clit.  “I wanna take you apart and see how you work… I wanna know what you look like when you cum… “  He dragged his thumb down from her clit, hooking his fingers in the crotch of her panties, he tugged them down.  

Over her thighs, down over her knees and off her ankles.  

Then he spread her thighs so far apart they started to ache.  

He peered intently at her.  “You’re so pink and pretty…” he murmured.  “So slick for me…”  He licked his lips, leaning in to nuzzle her.  To run his tongue along either side of her slit until she parted for him like a flower.  

His tongue swirled over her clit and she hissed, her toes curling inside her shoes because she was still wearing them.  He was licking her like she was the finest dessert ever and she was still pretty much dressed from head to toe.  

He  _ moaned _ , his tongue wriggling over the tiny bundle of nerves and did she mention that he was moaning?  Brock Rumlow was licking her pussy and  _ moaning _ .  

To say that he surprised the hell out of her would be redundant.  But apparently, he had a bit of an oral fetish and she was hella here for this.  

He was murmuring things.  Soft,  _ filthy _ things.  “You’re so sweet.  You taste so good.  Fuck…”  

He alternated between tiny flicks of his tongue and broad strokes.  Making her feel so delicious and wanted that her muscles started to clench after only a few minutes of being treated like a delicious ice cream princess.  

“I’m close…” she whimpered.  Whined.  Geez, he had her whining after five minutes.  

“Good,” he rumbled, the words reverberating as he doubled down on his efforts.  She came with a soft squeal, her hips rocking up to meet his lips and tongue as he sucked on her clit and turned that squeal into a yelp.  

He was licking his lips and gazing up at her when she opened her eyes again.  He rubbed his hands over her stocking-clad thighs.  “I like these.”  

“I could give you the site I ordered them from… in case you wanted to buy some for yourself,” she teased.  

He ran his tongue down over his bottom lip.  “I want to buy more of them for  _ you _ .”  

Her eyebrows went up.  

* * *

 

He actually kept his word, too.  He bought more of them for her.  Like… five pairs.

He even washed them, folded them.  They smelled like his laundry detergent when he brought them over.  He chose a pair of pink ones.  Black lace at the top.

If she thought he had an oral fetish before, his  _ stocking _ fetish was a thing of legends.  

She peeled off her clothes on the way back to the bedroom, leaving a trail of her discarded clothing like breadcrumbs for him to follow as she sat on the bed and waited for him. 

He crawled closer to her on the mattress, rolling the stockings up her thighs and pressing them tight together.

He shuffled closer to her on the bed and she watched in rapt attention as he nestled his cock between her thighs.  He started to move his hips, sliding it between them until he was shaking and close and  _ quivering _ for it.  

Darcy rolled him over onto his back and sank down on top of him, the stretch of his member inside her a  _ delicious _ one.  

“Tease me…” he murmured, his cock twitching inside her.

So she just sat there.  Rocking against him every so often while she played with herself.  Her fingers rolling her clit right there in front of him while his cock was trapped inside with nothing to do.  

He moaned and swore, his hands gripping her thighs like a vice.  And she plucked at her nipples, rubbing her thumb over one stiffened peak while she rocked gently on top of him.  

His cock was the perfect length and curved just right so that she could lean back slightly and rub the head over her g-spot with no discomfort at all.  

And that’s how she came: back arched, his dick deep inside her, fingers rolling her swollen clit and pinching her nipple until the ripples of pleasure rolled through her.  

Something she’d discovered about Brock Rumlow was that he  _ loved _ watching.  Loved looking down to where they were joined and watching his cock disappear into her.  Watching it come out all slicked up with her arousal and rock hard.  

And so, after  _ she _ came, she rode him.  Hard.  Let him watch his cock go in and out as she fucked him.

He cried out her name when he finished, shuddering and hot.  Filling her with his seed before finally slowing down.  

And because she was a lucky, lucky girl to have found a dude with so many of her own specific kinks, he pulled out and coaxed her up onto his face, where he proceeded to  _ clean _ her up. 

To  _ completion _ .

* * *

 

She hadn’t really expected this to turn into a thing.  But it had.  They had a thing.  They  _ were _ a thing.

A known-about thing.  Because when she got invited places, Brock was also extended an invitation.  And he came along, if he was in town.  

It was weird.  Like a  _ relationship _ or something.  

A relationship with the most unattainable dude she’d ever met.  And she hadn’t even had to ask him.  To have the uncomfortable talk.  They just kind of… sank into it.  

“Why are we doing this?” she asked him once, her thighs were slick with his release because he’d been so worked up, frotting between her legs that he’d cum all over her stockings and inner thighs.  

“Cause I need you… need this…” He cupped her, two fingers pressing up into her cunt and making her shake with need.  “Need everything that comes with it…”  

“You surprise the hell out of me, Rumlow.”  

“Likewise…” he murmured, twisting his wrist and fucking his fingers deep into her.  She gasped and he chuckled.  “Let’s see how many times you can come, Darcy.  Surprise me.  Make me proud, baby…”  

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some sugar in the comments? <3 I love youuuuuuuuuu allllllllll!


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